


It's like a flood

by Audrey_poe



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-23 00:34:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23069515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audrey_poe/pseuds/Audrey_poe
Summary: Jayson found a desperate Grayson. He's not the one to help Grayson, because they're broken, too. But somehow, it looks like he has to.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, so the grammar level of this article depends on my level of translation software.

The next time I saw Grayson, it was my seventh month back in Gotham. It's been five years since I last saw him.  
I've been staying in an old apartment on West 2nd Street on the east side, next door to a black man who works in a Vegan restaurant. His youngest daughter was about the age of a high school student, and I had walked in on her several times on my way home from work in the early hours of the morning. When she saw me, she would hug the textbook in her arms and tilt her head to one side. I knew she was peering at me in the Mirror, and I knew she had a crush on me.  
Realizing this, I always tried to get back early to avoid walking into her as if I had tried to kill the mayor of Gotham three months ago, and now I was busy fighting gangs for the title of King of Gotham's criminal underworld. I'm a complete asshole, living off of violence and murder, and I'm not the right person for the "teenage crush list" anyway.  
Recently, my conflict with cobblepot has been getting worse, and I haven't had a break in days. We've swept the entire north side of Gotham.  
I had moved away from that family, and I was doing the opposite of what they were looking for. But someone in the Bat Nest told me, implicitly, that the older Wayne was particularly unhappy with me, and that it was clear that I had ruined three months of his intelligence gathering on the iceberg lounge. I had to watch out for an angry man's revenge while I was dealing with a fat fuck. I was alone, working on the docks and in the abandoned parking lots of Gotham, and I was beginning to run out of steam.  
So you can see why I was so happy when I finally had a chance to catch my breath. God Bless Cory, my beautiful red-haired Alien Princess. She came all the way back from outer space, paid me a visit before she went back to Titan. After learning of my recent troubles, she rushed to the iceberg and blew up a small half of the casino. Cobblepot was furious. One of his boys recorded a video of cobblepot screaming and cursing that I was the king of Gotham on Youtube, and I laughed through it, pleasantly aware that I finally had a break tonight.  
But I didn't expect to meet Dick Grayson, my foster brother, in the back alley of the Dingy Little Club.  
When I left the store, it was 2:00 in the morning. It was my first time at the club and one of my partners was keen to recommend it to me. It's funny, the last time I was in Gotham, I wasn't even old enough to drink. "privacy guaranteed, mate, " he said, adding, to persuade me, "where even the slightly decent scoundrels won't go. "  
Late at night, the weather became very cold, on the road to see no one, not even a stray dog. The air was so cold that I held a cigarette in one hand and searched for a lighter in the other. The smoke relieved me greatly, and the Marlboro's rough texture had always appealed to me, but I thought it was just a flaw in the cheap stuff. I looked up at the mournful, listless moonlight, broken by a few scattered sounds. I turned and saw two men tangled up at the end of the alley.  
I wasn't in the mood for public sex. I was just leaving. Then the strangest thing happened: I heard the voice of one of the men. Sounds so much like my foster brother.  
Out of curiosity, I turned to look at the two men, dimly lit and crisscrossing the body I carefully looked for. With the help of a small piece of a passing patrol light. I finally found Grayson's flowing blue eyes and his trademark smile. The man pushed him roughly against the wall and grabbed Grayson so hard that he would bruise tomorrow. I hadn't seen him for five years, and he didn't look much older than I remembered. I couldn't tell the difference except for his red, swollen lips and the way he let a tall man do whatever he wanted.  
When I was 12, Batman picked me up. Being Robyn is harder than you think. Before I was adopted, I was an orphan busy not starving to death, with no family and no friends. After my adoption, I was finally able to eat three meals a day, but due to my new status and responsibilities, I still didn't get a chance to go out and make friends with my peers. At first, Grayson was oddly angry at me for taking his place, and his fight with Batman didn't end well. It was only a year after I arrived that Grayson began to return from time to time for sleepovers. I was lonely, Wayne was a paranoid who refused to put his feelings into words, and the old housekeeper wasn't much of a playmate for health reasons. Most teenage heroes of my age join their own superhero youth groups, but I have a personality problem and Wayne's objections (he thinks it was teenage Titan who got Grayson to give up Robyn's job) , i've never been able to make friends my own age.  
Therefore, I always look forward to Grayson's return. He was kind enough to play video games with me, buy me junk food, and sneak me out of the Manor House at night. I remember the first time I went to a school dance, and he taught me how to dance like a teenager, and he taught me how to kiss, and he even put a condom in my pocket. I have to say, he was my best friend as a teenager and almost my idol.  
Of course, that was before the accident.  
I knew that Grayson had attended my funeral, but that was the last time we would meet in person. The next time I heard of him was three years after I had come out of the Lazarus pit. I died when I was 16, came back to life and regained my senses, traveled the world to learn the art of murder, and began four years later, the year before last. I was in my early 20s, not even old enough to drink. I went back to Gotham, tried to start a riot, and nearly killed the clown. It turned out to be such a big deal that almost everyone in the bat family was involved. For my perfect comeback show, it was huge. But that's when I realized something was wrong with nightwing, the eldest son. A dozen months later, I was on good terms with Drake, my successor, a little Otaku who apparently had some sort of anti hero complex about me. One Night I asked him what was wrong with nightwing, and Tim stuttered for a moment, apparently not knowing how to answer the question. At the end he sighed and told me that Grayson was going through a very hard time.  
At the time I thought I understood what Tim meant by hard times, but from what I saw at the time, I don't think I got anywhere near the answer.  
I stand. I look at them. My first thought was to stay, and then I realized I had no reason to stay. So I turned around and left without a second thought. But just then there was a faint sigh from behind. A little inaudible: "Jayson. " With the churning turbid air to stop me. I knew Grayson wasn't calling out to his date, so I stopped and turned around.  
How dead the moon is tonight.  
"Long Time no see, " I said reluctantly.  
He looked so dispirited, he had large bruises on his face, his hands were bandaged, and to make matters worse, his eyes were like pools of stagnant water. I couldn't see a ripple. The man on top of him turned a deaf ear to Grayson's gesture and continued to bite Grayson roughly. Grayson didn't seem to care. He downplayed what the man had done to him. There was a gleam in his eyes at my presence. I could still see the glowing Grayson, the proud, beautiful black crow, with the face of the street hustler before me. How could he be so light-hearted? What happened? And let him rot in here? I began to Chafe. Is this how Wayne raised his children?  
The nameless rage seethed in me, and the Dick Grayson had a place in my miserable adolescence, and since I hadn't let death take away one of my few good adolescent memories, I would continue to defend them. I'm not GonNa let some promiscuous drunk ruin my memory of Grayson as a teenager.


	2. 2

"If you're going to judge me, you have to say something. " Grayson said, looking down.  
I looked at Grayson's arm, and he grabbed it, but I could still see it. There were many vertical scars on his inferior hands, crisscrossed in depth, perhaps as early as a year ago. Every normal person could have these marks on their hands, which makes Grayson seem strangely ordinary, but no matter how many aggressive teenagers cut his wrists, doesn't stop you from thinking it's a fucking precursor to planning a suicide. He looks relaxed and at ease. But the thought of how many times Grayson had cut his skin along his veins made me uneasy.  
What am I should to say? What am I supposed to say? I had a Ordinary Heroes in my mouth, and I couldn't find a polite word to say. I closed my eyes, and I was angry, and the anger was boiling inside of me. I'm used to being angry, and anger is the fuel that keeps me going, but this time I don't know what to do.  
At last I managed to speak, trying to remind myself that none of this anger should be directed at Grayson: "Grayson, how many people have you slept with tonight?"  
"I don't know, " he said defensively. "maybe four? "  
That's not a surprising number in my world, but given that the people who do it are all street sluts I know, it breaks my heart. I didn't like to see Grayson acting so depraved, and all I could think about was yanking him up, getting him off this filthy concrete floor, getting him to take a bath, getting him cleaned up and happy again.  
I closed my eyes and allowed myself to imagine that I was frantically kicking everyone who was supposed to be taking care of Grayson in the head. I can't tell you how many people I kicked in the head. All I can tell you is that there's half a justice league and two teenage Titan on that list.  
Batman should at least take care of his first Robyn.  
"Let's go, " I said quietly, "let me take you back to your apartment. "  
He looked at me, and I knew he was evaluating the pros and cons. Finally, he said, "well, why not? "  
Grayson's apartment was not far away, just two blocks from the bar. I volunteered, unreservedly, about the recent gang activity and my plans for the future, just to fill the awkward, terrible silence between us. Frankly, my reunion with Grayson was more peaceful than I had expected. In my estimation, we might have met in a battle, and then we would have fought, and then we would have swore, and then one of US would have ended up getting hurt. But this is not what I had in mind. But looking at the way Grayson defend me, I really didn't know what kind of relationship I expected.。  
What quarantined us? We haven't seen each other in five years, and we've all changed so much. Before I knew it, all my thoughts were on Grayson. What made him like this. It was enough for me to see that Grayson was on the verge of breaking down, and that those around him couldn't have missed it.  
"Have you seen Bruce? " He interrupted suddenly. Realizing what he was asking, he tightened his muscles again, seemingly waiting for me to explode.  
Grayson's caution broke my heart. He was no longer happy or confident. The shining golden boy I grew up with in my childhood is now covered in dust. At the same time, it made me realize that I might still be that Irascible and irrational teenager in his heart, and I wanted to prove that I wasn't, and I wanted to help him.  
"Not for a long time, " I tried to sound easy. "The last time I saw him was two months ago. How about you? "  
"It's been a long time for me, too, " Grayson said, looking relaxed. "It's been eight months. We try not to see each other. "  
I wanted to ask why, but I didn't.  
There was a strong smell of disinfectant coming from the bathroom in Grayson's apartment, either because he was bathing in it or because he had dismembered a body in the bathroom and was trying to cover it up. There's a big difference between here and his old place. Everything in the living room was clean and tidy, but most of it was dusty, and it was clear that the appearance of neatness was simply the result of his long absence. Grayson doesn't need a safe house, so where does he spend the night? A brief panic ran through my mind: a Stranger's home?  
The first thing Grayson did when he entered the apartment was to walk into the open kitchen and pull out a half finished bottle of scotch from the cupboard below.  
"have a drink " He asked.   
I shook my head. I don't like alcohol.  
He looked at me and blinked slowly. "Oh, I think this is the end of our adventure tonight, " said Grayson, trying to make him look as cold as he has been all night.  
Then he said," I may not be able to finish all this by myself。"  
and I sighed：" goodbye, dick。" and that was the end of the night.  
Until the next day, I couldn't forget his tactful and cautious tone of voice when he finally tried to make me stay.


End file.
